


I Don't Do Flowers

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Getting It Together [22]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, Demisexual Sherlock, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Orgasm, Pet Names, Rating Changed, Rutting, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Taking Things Slow, Talking, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8916028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: John brings flowers to the flat, only they aren't for a date with a woman and they aren't just any flowers.Beta read by Sherlock1110.





	1. Chapter 1

John entered the flat looking like the cat who had got the cream. He was smiling broadly and humming, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Groaning at the sight, Sherlock rolled over and glared at the back of the sofa. Obviously the doctor had a date with another boring woman. It had been several months since Sherlock had been subjected to this particular torture - watching John ignore him in favour of the normal, the boring. He punched the Union Jack pillow and shoved it beneath his head.

"Sherlock, would you mind sitting up and actually talking to me?" John asked, a smile evident in his voice.

The detective made himself smaller on the sofa, curling up tight. "Yes, I mind. You have a date. Why don't you go talk to her."

"I don't have a date, you git. Not yet." The doctor sat on the edge of the sofa. "I brought the flowers for you. I thought maybe we could go on a date if you want to."

"You brought me flowers," Sherlock said in disbelief, the rest of John's statement not registering. "I'm not one of your women," he said with scorn. "I don't do flowers."

"Come on, take a look at them," the doctor urged.

Looking over his shoulder, Sherlock examined the bouquet. "Oh!" He sat up and reached for them with delight. "They're all poisonous." He leapt from the sofa and dashed to the kitchen where he grabbed a clean flask and used it as a makeshift vase. As he arranged the flowers, the import of John's words hit him full force. He froze for a moment, then turned to face the doctor. "You want to go on a date."

"Yes."

"With me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

John laughed. "Because I fancy you."

Sherlock's face had screwed up and his nose had crinkled. "But I don't want to go on a date with you."

The doctor's face fell. "Oh. That's... fine. That's completely fine." He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He had no idea what to do now.

"What would be the point?" the detective asked. "Dates are for getting to know someone. We already know everything about one another. I wouldn't object to eating in and sitting together on the sofa." Sherlock moved closer to John. "We could talk... or not." He reached out and took John's hand. "Although I should warn you, I don't know much about such things. I've never been interested before."

"But you're interested with me?" John asked, his heart swelling. "Why me?"

"It could never be anyone else but you."

The smile that Sherlock gave John was the most genuine, softest smile the doctor had ever seen on his face. "Oh my God, you are a romantic at heart."

The detective rolled his eyes. "I take that as an insult."

"I swear, I won't tell anyone." John kissed Sherlock on the cheek.

"I don't have to do it anymore." Sherlock's voice had cracked on the last word.

John looked him, concerned. "Do what?"

"Watch you go out with those women and pretend it doesn't hurt."

"Oh, Sherlock." The doctor pulled his friend to him and held him. "I'm so sorry I put you through that. I never meant to hurt you. But you're right. It's over. I only hope that you can forgive me."

Sherlock pulled back enough to turn the embrace into a clumsy kiss. John soon took the lead and the detective let him. Before long, Sherlock was kissing like he had been doing it his entire life. The doctor broke it off. "Sofa," John demanded, pulling the detective along with him.

They sank down onto the sofa and lost themselves in kisses that started out gentle and ended up incredibly passionate. Sherlock's face was flushed a pretty pink and he looked completely wrecked. He felt light headed and the room seemed off balance.

"Why are you stopping, John?" the detective asked in a wrecked tone.

John laughed gently. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Now I'm going to feed you, then I'll hold you. There's no need to rush this."

"I'm not fragile!" Sherlock objected vehemently.

"Nope. You're about as fragile as steel. But you are inexperienced. Let's take it slow and enjoy everthing as it presents itself. It's not a race." John kissed his friend's, his boyfriend's temple. "Trust me."

"Always, John. I'll always trust you."


	2. Chapter 2

The next night, John and Sherlock were sat on the sofa. The detective had rested his head on John's shoulder and was perfectly content.

"Last night, you said something..." the doctor began. He rested his cheek against Sherlock's curls. "You said you'd never been interested in a relationship before. Is that true?"

There was a long silence during which the detective played with a string on John's jeans. "Not quite. There was one other person, in uni, but the interest wasn't returned. His name was Victor Trevor. He's the only other real friend I've ever had besides you."

"So, you've only ever been interested with someone who was already your friend. Interesting. I suppose it would take that to get your attention." John chuckled and kissed the top of Sherlock's head. "I thought maybe you were interested in the Woman..."

"Perhaps I could have been, given time." Sherlock looked up at the doctor. "She was intriguing. I don't know if we could have been friends though. The idea of kissing someone that I don't care about is rather repulsive. I don't understand why you enjoy it, let alone having sex with them."

The doctor laughed. "It's fun. It feels good. It's a good time for both parties. It's always nicer when there's a connection with your partner, though, I admit it. It makes it more special." He gave Sherlock's shoulders a squeeze. "I've thought I was in love before and the sex was always better. Of course, I know now that was just infatuation. What I feel for you is so much stronger. Maybe we should skip the sex. It might be so spectacular it would kill me." He laughed at his own silliness.

Sherlock didn't. He sat up straight and gave John a scandalised look. "Absolutely not! Not now that I've found someone I actually want to have sex with."

"I'm teasing, you git." The doctor ruffled his curls with his free hand. "I can't wait to have sex with yo... mmph."

Sherlock interrupted John by pressing their lips together. He pushed with his tongue, insisting on admittance. The doctor put up absolutely no resistance. Soon, Sherlock had moved so that he straddled the doctor's lap. Their groins were pressed together tightly, causing a delicious friction between their cocks.

John closed his eyes and shuddered. "Jesus, Sherlock. I don't think right now is the best time for this." He tried to push the detective back to no avail.

"Wrong. It's precisely the right time. I've waited all these years for the right person." He ground forward, rubbing their cocks together through four layers of fabric. It wasn't enough. He shifted back on John's lap and, working fast, soon had the doctor's flies open and his wonderful cock in his hand. He stroked it with loving awe. "Let me do this."

"No." John shook his head. "Not unless you let me do this." He fumbled at Sherlock's flies, grinning triumphantly when he had the detective's cock in his own hand. "Together or not at all."

The detective slid closer to John once again. He seemed to take the doctor's words literally as he wrapped his hand around bith their cocks. "Mm, like this?" he asked as he stroked them together with his huge hand.

John dropped his head to the back of the sofa. "Oh, fuck, Sherlock. You have forever to stop doing that." He found himself trying to thrust up into Sherlock's hand but couldn't because of the delicious weight of the detective on top of him.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" John asked as Sherlock latched onto his pulse point and sucked. He sucked and bit hard enough that he was sure to leave a mark.

"Mm hm." The detective moved back up and brought their lips together and they kissed. The whole time, Sherlock was stroking them, pumping them and John could feel he was close. His balls had drawn up in preparation for orgasm.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock. I'm close. Too close. Gonna, gonna come." His body went rigid and he spilled over the detective's fist, shooting ejaculate over both their stomachs and chests. "Oh, fuck!" he cried out and went limp.

Sherlock rested his forehead against John's and chased his own orgasm. A few more pumps of their cocks and he reached completion, their sperm mixing where it landed. He collapsed onto John and started giggling madly.

The doctor opened his eyes and smiled at him. "Endorphins."

"Yup."

"I think I like you all debauched and giggly," John observed. "I'll have to keep you this way."

"That's fine with me," Sherlock agreed as he lay his head on John's shoulder. "Now what do we do?"

"Get a shower. Have a meaningful conversation. Sleep. You pick."

"Sleep now. Shower later." Sherlock closed his eyes. "Love you."

"I love you too."


	3. Chapter 3

John closed the fridge after noting the dearth of milk and other consumable items. Just as he was about to turn around, Sherlock slipped up behind him silently and wrapped his arms around him. "Jesus!" the doctor shouted, startled. "Make some noise next time."

"Mm. Yes, John," Sherlock replied without a scrap of remorse. "I missed you." He nuzzled against John's neck, then kissed his temple.

Turning around in the detective's arm, John grinned at him. "I left the living room all of two minutes ago." The doctor wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. "You can't have missed me that much."

"I did." The detective pressed his body against John's, pushing his erection against him. "You ran off just when I was going to do this." Sherlock bent his head and initiated a heated kiss.

Head spinning, John let out a shaky breath. "If I had known, I certainly wouldn't have left. Fuck." His own cock had grown hard and felt far too confined in his jeans. "What else did you have in mind? I'm sure you thought beyond that kiss."

"Mm, yes." Sherlock worked his hand beneath the waistband of the doctor's jeans and pants to give his arse a squeeze. "The first order of business would be to get these clothes off of you."

"You know, you're supposed to be all shy and blushing," John teased.

A crinkle appeared across the bridge of Sherlock's nose as he looked at his boyfriend with puzzlement. "What on earth for?"

"This is all new to you. Most people are rather diffident their first few times." John had pulled the detective's shirt out of his trousers and was exploring the smooth plane of Sherlock's back.

"Ridiculous. I know what I want. I want you." He started walking them towards the bedroom, John having to walk backwards.

"Yeah. Alright, but only if your clothes come off too." John's back hit Sherlock's bedroom door. He reached behind himself to open it and they almost fell through the doorway. They stumbled to the bed where they collapsed together onto the mattress. Disentangling their limbs, the pair quickly undressed.

John shifted back on the bed, resting against the headboard. "Come here, you," he said, taking Sherlock's hand and trying to pull him up to sit beside him.

The detective was having none if it. He reclaimed his hand and positioned himself so that he sat between John's spread legs. Sherlock's gaze locked onto the rigid line of the doctor's hard cock and he couldn't look away from it. It was beautiful, hard, pink and, reaching out to touch it, still oh so smooth. Licking his posh pink lips, the detective bent forward, intent on taking it into his mouth.

Despite how very appealing getting sucked off by his gorgeous flatmate was, John stopped him by catching him at the shoulders. "Oh, no you don't. Just no."

"Why not?" Sherlock asked in a petulant tone. "I want to do it."

"We haven't been tested. I know you've never slept with anyone else, but there's your drug history. As for me," John grimaced, "I haven't been as careful as I should have been."

The detective rolled his eyes. "We're both clean. Remember the Pembleton case? We had to get tested after we practically bathed in all that blood."

John brightened. "Oh, yeah. I had forgot, but, Sherlock, that's not the only reason. This," he waved his hand between them, "is all new to you. If anyone is getting a blow job tonight, it's you."

"But, John..."

"But me no buts."

The doctor moved swiftly and soon had their positions reversed. Sherlock was laying back on the bed and John hovered over him. Before the detective could protest, John had taken his cock into his mouth and began sucking.

"John!" Sherlock gasped. He'd never felt anything like it, hot, wet suction and the doctor's tongue working along his shaft. He dropped his head to the mattress and let out a moan. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The doctor chuckled around the cock in his mouth at having pulled such profanities from the lips of Sherlock Holmes. He swirled his tongue around the head of the detective's cock, then tongued at the slit. Next, he started bobbing his head up and down. Every trick his past lovers had ever used on him, he sought to employ. He wanted the first blow job that Sherlock had ever received to be one he would remember. Apparently it was working.

Sherlock grasped a fistful of bedding in one hand and placed the other in John's hair. "Jesus Christ. John! John, I'm about to...Gonna come, John. Pull off." In contrast to his words, Sherlock's hand tightened in John's hair and held him there.

The doctor didn't mind. When Sherlock came, his release spilling into John's mouth, the doctor managed to swallow, something he had never done before. Then again, he'd never given a blow job before. After he had swallowed, he pulled off of Sherlock's cock and sat up, back on his heels. He grinned down at the limp form on the bed. "Good?"

"No. Spectacular." Sherlock smiled up at him lazily. "I don't think it could get any better than that."

"Just wait and see, babe," John cautioned, smiling. "Just wait and see."


	4. Chapter 4

Just as Sherlock began to reach for John, still caught in the afterglow of his first ever blow job, the doctor pounced on him. John ran his fingers along the detective's prominent ribs, tickling them.

"J... John, what are you doing?' Sherlock asked as he tried to squirm away to no avail. Soon he was giggling madly and thrashing beneath the doctor.

"I missed the giggly, silly you from last time," John admitted. "If you don't want to be tickled after sex, you had best giggle in self defence."

"But John, I was completely overwhelmed." The detective rolled over so his bum stuck up in the air. It was a pretty sight.

John dropped his mouth to said bum, kissing first the left cheek, then the right. "Has anyone ever told you you have a gorgeous arse?" the doctor asked. He doubted it.

"Who would have told me that? No one's seen it since I was in nappies except for you." Sherlock looked over his shoulder and wriggled his bum, delighted at the look on John's face. "What makes it attractive, anyway?" It was just an arse after all.

"Well," John licked the left cheek. "There's the simple fact that it's yours, but it's more than that. It's pale and firm and oh so smooth." The doctor got a wicked look on his face and licked a stripe along Sherlock's crack, causing the detective to squirm. "Jesus. If you were an actor, you wouldn't need an ass double for nude scenes, that's for certain." He licked the other cheek.

"An ass double," Sherlock repeated incredulously before he was completely distracted once more by his boyfriend climbing up his body, licking and kissing his way as he went. It felt amazing, even though it tickled a bit.

John kissed each knobby vertebra along the detective's spine. "You." Kiss. "Are." Kiss. "A skinny." Kiss. "Git." Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. "I'm definitely going to have to work on that." He nuzzled into the curls at the base of Sherlock's skull. "And why you should smell so good when you're all sweaty is quite beyond me."

"John..."

"Yes, buttercup?"

Sherlock ignored that. "Is that your erection pressing into my arse?" He wriggled a bit and lifted his hips to better feel the hard flesh pressing between his arse cheeks. Yes, that was definitely an erection.

"Hm, hm, hm," the doctor laughed. "Sorry. It's a bit eager, what with you laid out under me like a feast." John kissed the back of Sherlock's neck. "Don't worry. We haven't talked about penetrative sex and while it does have a mind of its own, I can keep control of it." John reached down and gave his erection a stroke. God, he really needed to get off and soon. He started to move from the bed.

"You could rub off against me, if you like. I wouldn't mind." Sherlock turned his head, seeking a kiss. John gladly met his lips with his own.

"If your sure, buttercup." Slowly, the doctor began to rut against Sherlock's perfectly shaped bum. "You're so gorgeous, every part of you, do you know that? Even your toes are sexy. Not many people can claim to have sexy toes." His hips jerked and he dropped his head to the detective's shoulders.

"Toes can't be sexy," the detective protested.

"Y... Yours can," John panted. "I bet you have a sexy appendix, too. Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck." He sat back and used his hands to position Sherlock's arse just right. Soon he was thrusting madly along its cleft. "I'm gonna come, babe, all over your arse. Is that... Is that..."

"Go ahead and do it, John," Sherlock told him, eager for his lover's release. He wanted the doctor to be as happy and as sated as he was.

"I'm coming, buttercup!" John cried out as he came, thick ropes of semen covering Sherlock's arse. He fell to the side, one arm draped over the detective's back. The look on Sherlock's face was so bemused, it made John giggle. "What is it, babe?"

"You called me... buttercup." Sherlock crinkled his nose, not knowing what to make of it.

"So I did. It's a pet name. Like when I call you babe." John grew serious. "Is it okay, sweet pea?"

"Sweet pea?"

"Honey blossom. Sugar lump. Rose petal."

"John, you're being ridiculous," the blushing detective insisted, but his pleased squirming gave him away.

John smiled. "That's part of being in love, buttercup, being ridiculous with each other." He kissed Sherlock on the nose. "But it's only for us. The pet names aren't for anyone else."

"Then they can stay, my golden light, my spring day." Sherlock made a face. "But the semen on my back side has to go. Take a shower with me?" he asked hopefully.

Together, they slipped away and got ready to face the rest of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock had devised a plan. Since John slept in the nude, it was a relatively simple plan. He waited until the doctor was asleep, then he turned the thermostat up so that it was soon sweltering in the flat. As predicted, John soon kicked out from under the covers. Sherlock's prize was revealed in all its glory, laying there, limp, against John's groin.

The doctor had been very insistent that it was too soon for Sherlock to give him a blow job. Well, the detective was about to prove him wrong. He positioned himself just so, with his face mere inches from his lover's cock and looked at it. It surely was a prime specimen, although Sherlock didn't have a broad range of specimens to which to compare it. He inhaled deeply. It smelled delightfully of John, musky and unique. Leaning in closer, he darted out his tongue and gave it a kitten lick.

John twitched and snorted in his sleep, but that was all.

A few more kitten licks and the doctor's cock started to be considerably less limp. Sherlock smiled to himself, pleased. He decided he'd had enough of his tentative exploration and plunged his mouth over John's entire length.

At that, the doctor's eyes shot wide open. "J... Jesus! What?!" He looked down the length of his body and saw Sherlock smiling up at him, John's cock still in his mouth. The doctor would never understand how someone in that position could look so innocently pleased with themselves, but Sherlock definitely managed it. "Hello, buttercup. You surprised me."

The detective pulled off and placed his head on John's thigh, smiling shyly. "Is it okay? I know you wanted me to wait, but I couldn't resist." He brought his finger up and delicately touched the slit of John's cock, fascinated. "I know I have one of my own, but it's impossible to observe it from this close." He ran his nose along the length of the doctor's cock. "I think it's pretty."

John made an indignant sound. "It's not pretty."

"Yes it is. If my arse can be gorgeous, you can have a pretty cock," Sherlock insisted. Of course it was pretty, it belonged to John.

The doctor shifted and raised up on his elbows. "I don't know. Calling it pretty makes it sound like you're going to tie a pink ribbon around it or something."

Sherlock giggled. "Not pink. Blue. To match your eyes."

"Sweet pea..." John said in a warning tone that made the detective giggle all the harder.

"How about I wrap this around your cock instead?" Sherlock asked just before swallowing down the doctor's length.

"That's... Yeah, buttercup. Oh..." John wound his fingers in Sherlock's hair, being careful not to pull. He didn't want to hurt his precious rose petal. "Oh, babe. You sweet thing. You fucking genius." The doctor's vocalisations went on in that vein until they became incoherent mutterings. Finally, he started pushing at Sherlock's head, trying to dislodge him. "Coming, buttercup. Off, get of..."

The detective clung tenaciously all through John's climax. He managed to swallow most of the doctor's seed and found it not too unpleasant. When John finally collapsed in a heap of languid muscles, Sherlock pulled off and looked at him questioningly, almost as if he were unsure of himself.

John held out his arms for his boyfriend. "Come here, love." He wrapped his arms around Sherlock and kissed his cheek. "That was incredible. You can call my cock pretty any time you like."

"And the blue ribbon?" the detective asked, joking.

"If a blue ribbon would make my rose petal happy, I'll wear one on my cock. I'll wear two. A dozen." John sniggered. "Just don't tell Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock started giggling madly. "I should make you, just so I can take a picture."

"Oh, no. No, no, no." John pinched Sherlock on the bum, then started giggling too. When he stopped, he was panting. "Babe, why is it so hot in here?"

The detective blushed and hid under the covers.

John shook his head, quickly putting it together. "Don't think being cute will save you!" He proceeded to strip the covers from the bed and tickle his buttercup until Sherlock begged for mercy. Twice.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com).


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